


the scent on your skin

by melanoradrood



Series: Universes Made Just For You And I [18]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 05:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15767766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoradrood/pseuds/melanoradrood
Summary: A day in the life, where Cassian chases after coffee, time with Jyn, and an answer to a mystery.





	the scent on your skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guineapiggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineapiggie/gifts).



> AU: Canon Compliant Post Scarif  
> Word Count: 3046  
> Rating: Teen  
> Prompt: coffee grounds make a great body scrub by guineapiggie

Coffee cup in each hand, Cassian walks up behind Jyn, pressing a kiss to her neck. She steps away from him easily, and he smirks a little, watching as she turns around, rubbing a hand over her forehead. He always found her in here first thing, up hours before he is, running and training and fighting. She calls it teaching kids how to survive, but he knows the truth - she enjoys kicking a little Alliance ass on occasion.

It looks good on her, the sweat, the blush, the way that her eyes close for a moment at the scent of coffee, and he steps forward to steal another kiss.

“No, Cass, I’m gross,” she says in a huff, and he glances towards the rest of the training room - no one is looking their way. They’re tucked away in a corner. “Seriously, you can’t-”

“I can’t help myself,” he teases, and he ducks down to kiss her again, only because he knows she’s protesting because she thinks she’s too gross to be kissed, but he likes to imagine kissing her when he’s the reason she’s this worn out and exhausted, first thing in the morning. Maybe, eventually, they’ll get there, get to the point where they can wake up together, go to sleep together, but for now, it will have to be stolen kisses.

He still has coffee in each hand, so he can’t pull her closer, and when she takes a step back, he has to let her go, a slight pout on his lips.

He had never thought he would be the sort of man that would change in a relationship, had never even thought that he would be in one, but something after Scarif… The doc they’re  _ forced _ to talk to says they’re still living on the high of survival, something he has never really experienced before, or at least not like this. 

Personalities can warp in interesting ways following trauma. For Cassian and Jyn, it has only made them closer, made them open up, made them want to share things, do things that they never thought - to everyone else, they’re complete and total assholes.

That’s why Jyn gets to enjoy coffee rather than the bantha-shit in the mess hall. 

“Tell me you’re not working third shift in the command center again,” she asks, and he can see that look in her eyes, knows what it means. “I’ve been thinking that I should come by and we can-”

His comm goes off, and he lets out a groan, both of them pulling away, their bodies having drifted forwards while they talked. He hands over the cup of coffee, and she inhales it slowly, then looks back up at him.

“I wouldn’t mind finding you in my room when I get relieved,” he says, and he says it every night, in hopes she’ll be there.

He knows she comes, but she always leaves when she’s too tired. His late nights and her early mornings… they can’t keep up like this.

“Only if I’m still awake,” she says, and her eyes say… she won’t be there.

“Hey, I’ll be off third in a few weeks,” he murmurs, and he steps forward again, one hand now free so he can wrap his arm around her. She’s sticky with sweat but he doesn’t care, his lips pressing to her temple.

“Mmm, yes, and maybe then we can kiss without me being disgusting,” she huffs out.

Hopefully, she’ll still be on base then…

“Go enjoy the fresher, after you finish kicking ass,” he teases, and she shrugs him off, winking at him as she does so. He gives her another smile, then turns to look - a few young recruits have started glancing their way, intruding on their moment. 

His eyes thin towards the group, and then he turns, slipping out of the room.

Coffee… Coffee will get him through his day. He takes a sip of the cup in his hands, glad that at least he and Jyn can share a few moments and a cup together, for a sip or two. Coffee might keep her awake long enough to wait for him. He just has to get through the long day.

 

* * *

 

Cassian doesn’t know how to explain it, but for the third day in a row, the coffee grounds have gone missing. Not the fresh ones, of course, that he had brought back with him from his last mission. No, those were sitting in the tin, ready to be used, to save him from the insta-caff that the rest of the base suffered through. It was, instead, the coffee grounds from the top of the pot, the ones that he had used just that morning to brew himself and Jyn a cup of coffee.

In fact, the entire pot is clean, not just the pot empty, but rinsed out as well. It’s almost as though he had cleaned it out before he left, except there isn’t enough time in the morning, the boiling water making the metal pieces too warm to touch, and he hadn’t been back in his room since he had left that morning…

What is happening to his coffee pot?

Stranger still, when Cassian looks in the small garbage tin in his room, there are no grounds within. He could explain away the pot being rinsed out, perhaps, but  _ what is happening to the grounds _ ? It’s the strangest thing he couldn’t begin to explain…

The cleaning droids. That had to be the explanation. In the past, back on Yavin, Cassian had always made it abundantly clear that his room was not to be touched. He could keep his own space squared away, and he had too many secrets, needed a space that felt as though it was untouched by anything else. This was a new base, so perhaps…

Only, the bed isn’t made, his jacket is still thrown over the back of his chair, and the towels need to be taken to be washed-

Or not.

His eyes catch on one of the towels, hanging on the rod, and he realizes that it’s a new one, clean, and slightly damp. Well, not perfectly clean, but cleaner than the one he had used that morning to wipe shaving cream off his face.

Jyn. She must have been by and used his fresher, which made sense, because then she could enjoy the hot water his rank allowed, over the communal fresher she was assigned to. Still… coffee grounds? They wouldn’t just disappear…

He doesn’t have time for this. It’s just coffee grounds.

 

* * *

 

He’s half asleep on third shift when the door opens, and he turns his head, looks over to see who it is. It’s too early for his replacement, and no one has gone on a caff run, but he can smell it, can smell coffee, and he smiles when he sees it’s Jyn, a cup in her hand.

Stepping away from the desk, he locks eyes with the Comm Tech, then steps around behind one of the partitions in command, curling a finger towards Jyn for her to follow him. It’s not really privacy, but no one can see them, not in the low light of command, not with everyone at their desks, half asleep.

“Force, that smells good,” he says, and he accepts the cup from her. He takes in a deep breath, and enjoys a sip, before he sets it down on the ledge of the partition, so his hands are free.

In seconds, he has her back pressed against the wall and his mouth against her throat, and she sucks in a breath as his hands move over her hips, keeping her pressed there as he kisses over her skin.

“Figured you might need it,” she breathes out, and he noses at her ear, kisses her jaw, then catches her lips in a long kiss. Cassian has never felt so reckless just because, has never felt the need to just shirk off duty, to break the rules… not until Jyn. She brings out a part of him that should scare him.

Instead, when her body arches up into his, he half considers forgetting where they are right now, half considers just leaving his post - 

He can’t, he really can’t, so instead, he pulls his lips from hers, his body still pressing her against the wall, and he noses at her hair. She smells good, smells like the coffee she just brought him, and he breathes it in, trying to tell himself to just drink the real thing.

She smells delicious, though, and he tells her so. 

“Mmm, you smell as good as the coffee tastes. I could get used to this sort of late night delivery.”

Jyn is laughing softly into his shoulder, and he nuzzles against her temple, trying to keep himself from bending down to scoop her up into his arms. On the one hand, they’re in command, and on the other… his knees literally can’t take it.

“I’ll smell even better when you get out of here,” she murmurs against his ear, and he can’t wait, hopes this means what he thinks it means.

“Is that why you made coffee? Keep yourself awake?”

“I just woke up,” she whispers, and she nips at his ear. “I went to sleep as soon as I got off, and I’m working on my reports now… in your room… in your bed.”

He groans into her skin and nods, pulling away. A few more hours until he’s off…

“I’ll see you soon,” he insists, and she winks at him as he steps back, picking up the cup of coffee.

“Very soon.”

 

* * *

 

The last few hours seem to drag, even with the coffee, and when Cassian gets to his room, he’s pleased to see that the light is on, and Jyn is actually in his bed. She looks to be hard at work, datapads in hand, a few printed off sheets around her, so he doesn’t want to disturb, but when the door shuts, she looks up and smiles at him, stacking up her stuff immediately to set aside.

“I don’t want to interrupt you hard at work,” he teases, and she rolls her eyes.

“Kriff that. I already finished my reports.” She’s still so busy these days, training new recruits, helping to bring newer Pathfinders up to speed. In the past, the Pathfinders were the ones that came in with training, that had fought as Separatists, or in the Clone Wars, or were from outlying planets. These days, though, they were needing more and more of the younger generation, with no real training at all.

“So what are these?” he asks, and she shakes her head.

He never wants to pry, but there’s a look that says she’s thinking about something from her past, something that-

“You know, the Alliance likes to think that Saw’s rebels were just some insurrection cell, but we were well formed. We had trained fighters, had the weaponry, and yes, Saw took risks, but they lived on the frontline.”

They never really talk about the differences between the Partisans and the Alliance, but they both know what it was. Saw, he worked with what he had, and it was rough and it was dirty, but it got things done. Meanwhile, the Rebel Alliance had resources, funds, educated leaders… and what had they done with it all? Wasted time…

“Most… well, they could speak languages, but the writing?” Her writing is blocky, large chunks, and he had asked her about it once, and she had kind of looked defeated about it. “A few of his Lieutenants could write Basic, but not very well. Saw… he encouraged me to be better.”

There’s a lot of open points here, a lot of questions he could ask, but he can fill in the blanks. He can figure out what she’s trying to say. Saw Gerrera, hardened Separatist guerilla leader, had encouraged Jyn to continue studying, learning, being like her parents. She could read and write, spoke more languages than he could... 

“There’s a lot of new trainees coming in… they would have been picked up by Saw, with time, but now that he’s gone…”

They can’t read. They can’t write. There was no use for letters on outer rim planets where credits didn’t even serve a use. The only thing that mattered there was the seasons, and not being wiped out by the Empire. He got it, and now he understood.

“You’re helping to fix the reports of those that can’t write,” he says, and she nods a little.

He sinks down onto the bed and takes the datapads from her, setting them on the table beside the bed.

“There’s no point in teaching letters to someone that might not live long enough to use them,” Jyn says suddenly, and he knows that it’s something she was told, probably had repeated to her. How many times did Jyn try to teach someone something they didn’t live long enough to use?

“I think it’s admirable, that you’re helping to write others’ reports.”

She nods, lips pressing together, and then looks up at him, finally, a smile on her lips.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that,” she says, and he gives a shrug, finally sitting down onto the bed beside her. He kicks off his boots, then reaches out towards her, his hand sliding over her leg. It’s smooth, so smooth, and he doesn’t know how she does it, or why. Her skin is always so soft, save for her hands, but even her hands are oddly smooth. They’re hard, with callouses, and her nails are often dirty, but there is never a rough edge to them.

“What did you come here to talk about?” he asks, and his eyes light up as she lays back onto his pillows, allowing him space to lay his body over hers.

“I wanted to know what you thought about my legs,” she breathes out, and he hums to himself, leaning down, ready to settle himself where she has made space, but first, he picks up one long leg, draping her foot over his shoulder, so he can press a kiss to just above her ankle.

“They’re soft,” he murmurs, and he rubs his lips over the skin. He has seen her before, with a straight razor, and he had even, after Scarif, allowed her to shave him. He thinks she could kill a man with that thing, and he loves to watch her work.

It’s part of why her skin is so smooth… but she says she has a secret trick, one he still wants to learn.

“Mmm, because I’ve been using scrub. I have to admit, it’s nice having access to a fresher. I never really cared too much about being clean, but there’s something about slipping my legs into sheets-”

He presses an open mouthed kiss to her leg, working his way up, and he’s almost to her knee, his eyes shifting down to where his shirt is riding up on her, when he pauses. He knows that scent, that taste on her. Maybe, at first, he had thought it was remnants on his breath, but no, he recognizes it.

Coffee. She smells like, tastes like, coffee.

Jerking away from her, Cassian stares at her leg for a moment, then leans in and takes a deep breath, nose pressed to her skin.

“What are you doing?” she asks, jerking away from him, and there’s a question, but she looks almost alarmed.

“Why do you smell like coffee?” he asks, and his eyes thin a little, his previous thoughts gone save for wanting an answer to this question.

“What? What do you mean?”

He gestures to her leg, as though it’s obvious.

“You smell like coffee.”

She blinks at him, then bursts into laughter. He’s confused for a moment, but her leg is pulling away as she sits up on the bed.

“What else do you think I use to scrub them with? What, did you not notice the coffee grounds missing?”

He blinks at her, processing that information… she had a special scrub, she smelled like coffee, always smelled so good, and the grounds were missing-

“You…”

“Is that not okay?” she asks, and for a moment, she looks almost nervous.

He realizes, then, that his previous questions might have sounded like an attack, but instead, he is only endeared to her more.

“I thought I was going crazy,” he says with a choked laugh, and he tugs his shirt out of his pants, lifting it up and over his head. It hits the floor beside his boots, and he tugs at the tshirt underneath, similar to the one she is wearing now. “I couldn’t figure out where they were going.”

She’s relaxing, now, and that look in her eyes - there’s another story there.

“One of the women… nothing goes to waste when you’re underground. She showed me that you could mix the grounds from the coffee with a little of the industrial soap, to weaken it, but still scrub… it always helped to get out the grease and oil, get sand out of your hair…”

She’s sharing again, sharing a part of herself that he’s slowly beginning to unwrap. He hopes that one day, he can share these things with her as well, the secrets he never tells anyone, the things that choke him up with time, but these small things, the simple ones.

He treasures them, loves her for them.

“I  _ love _ the smell of coffee,” he says, and he leans forward, pressing a kiss to her cheek. His nose nuzzles against the hair above her ear, and yes, he can smell the coffee there. “I always thought you smelled delicious.”

Her fingers are touching, carefully, against his back, and he climbs fully onto the bed, pressing her back down onto the pillow. She’s laid out under him, and he moves to kiss her lips, softly.

“It’s really okay?” she asks when she pulls away, and Cassian grins.

“Jyn, I would never complain about you smelling like coffee. I happen to be an addict… “

He kisses her again, and then his mouth presses against her throat as he moves lower.

Cassian is determined to find out what else tastes that good.


End file.
